A Little Coffee In A Saucer
cools
as it pools
over
faux
porcelain.
I grip
lift
the dish a
little
with
fingertips
as brown
lips
descend—pursed
to send
cool
warmth across
a thin
black
shiver I
cold sip.
History, History, All is History
Dreaming has been confiscated…
In the lawn around an island of sycamores the roots are starting to show.
Throw a few bags of denial on ‘em, says the tree man.
After your screams finally became ambulatory, I could no longer slip into the trance of another life, needing your horror here to be unheard.
A patch of Yankee know-how updates the trick.
Having resigned ourselves to one another we refastened our seatbelts as we descended through the clouds, touching down to taxi the tarmac indefinitely.
…but the dream cannot be stopped.
* italicized lines from the documentary The Lebanese Rocket Society (2012)